


third act love now

by odeion



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bikers Doctors and Ghosts, F/F, M/M, Multi, Other, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-08 21:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19876273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odeion/pseuds/odeion
Summary: After getting a lousy flatmate, young neurosurgeon Dr. Qian experiences the paranormal on his own skin, comes in terms with his complicated feelings towards his co-surgeon and learns that not everything is what they seem to be.





	third act love now

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Archive Warnings may change in the future. I'm not a doctor/med student, so there might be inaccuracy in certain scenes which I apologize for! 
> 
> Enjoy! ♡

_Cold._

_His mind was hazy, eyes too dry to unclog the tear ducts, limbs completely numb. So, so numb. The cold was unbearable; eating itself through skin, veins and tissues, deep down to the marrow._

_Drip. Drip._

_Was it that late already? His patients were waiting, he couldn’t be here any longer._

_Drip. Drip. A piercing crack._

_“...taute Ware nicht wieder einfrieren…”_

_Doyoung’s warm laugh, a heavy hand on the small of his back. Finally._

_He needed them. His hands. But they were gone. His legs were gone, belly and lungs, his vocal cords, the blood from his heart that never reached his fingers. Into oblivion._

_“Doctor Qian to the Operating Room 5, please. Doctor Qian to the …”_

_A pair of rough lips on his own. A metallic taste in his mouth, the sound of his own hammering heart._

_Once he existed, then he didn’t at all._

_Ba dump. Ba dump. Ba dump._

_A small fist, closing around his index finger. He still remembered the warm smile of the mother through his tears.“How unprofessional. You weep like a baby” murmured Doyoung into the crown of his hair in the resting room, when he finally broke down and buried his face in the crook of other’s neck, shoulders trembling from the suppressed sobs. He still remembered how it was like, inhaling the disinfectant, sweat and Doyoung’s natural scent for the first time, after their very first surgery as leads._

_Ba dump. Ba dump._

_If he could just move, he could easily get it. It was within arm’s reach, he only had to…_

_Ba dump._

_And then silence. Deafening muteness._

_“...keup”_

_”_ _kunwakeup”_

_”Kun, wake…”_

_*_

“...up! Breakfast’s ready!”

Kun opened his eyes. It took him several moments to banish the numbness of his toes and fingers, to regain his senses. He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill the alveoli in his lungs. The curtains might have been left open last night, brightness was already pouring through the windows, specks of dust gleaming in the light of the morning sun and Kun suppressed a yawn.

He reached out for his phone to set off the alarm clock that showed two awfully early digits but Kun couldn’t go back to sleep: the sour, sobering smell of coffee and cheap aftershave wreathed into his room and filled his nose already, fueling his senses to awakeness. Not bothering to put clothes on, Kun only picked up a light blanket, wrapped around his naked torso, pocketed his phone and made his way to the kitchen, barefeet.

Once he got there, he stopped to lean on the door frame and give his still sleepy brain time to register what was going on. His kitchen was rather small with a twin window that let in enough natural light for the artificial ones to be unnecessary. The coffee machine was still on, the strong smell of caffeine came out in large puffs, on the counter two bowls of steamy porridge. The tiny space was loud: the radio was on, the static noise filled electronic music and the quiet slitting sounds on a cutting board mingled for a few seconds, then a long, toned arm appeared in Kun’s field of vision and dropped something red in the bowls.

Kun stepped inside as quiet as possible and waited until the other acknowledged his presence. The ceiling was covered with happy leaf (the plant already outgrew its pot, but Kun has no heart to prune it yet), in the high canopy of green the other’s face was barely visible. His tank top slipped down on his shoulder to reveal his soft, but muscular belly and Kun had to restrain himself from reaching out and touching the caramel skin with his icy fingertips. 

The taller boy turned to throw the last portion of fruits (raspberries, as far as Kun could see) and let out a surprised yelp when he finally realized he wasn’t alone. 

“Jesus, Kun! You scared me half to death. I thought you were an axe murderer or something.” 

He clutched his hand on top of his heart and looked at Kun with a pained expression. The other smiled wryly and lifted up both arms to reveal his pretty much axeless hands. The sudden movement made the blanket fall on the ground and the other turned back to his knife with high speed (although Kun didn’t miss the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed and how the tips of his ears turned gradually more pink).

“Morning to you too. Is that for me?”

Kun pointed at the bowls and the other hummed in approval. Kun smiled, rather for himself than the other and reached for the top shelf of the other counter. After struggling for a while, Kun sighed in defeat and let the other closer to pick two mugs for them. Kun wasn’t short, not really. Just the boy next to him, he was so insolently tall.

After scooping up everything relatively smoothly (Kun only needed a careless moment to nudge the younger with such force he almost poured the hot content of his mug on himself), they headed to the dining room. 

Kun’s apartment was spacious: two bedrooms, a tiny bathroom with a washroom, a kitchen and a pathetic dining room, a living room with an entryway. One of the previous owners thought it would be a revolutionary idea to build a mobile kitchen table, but he had to move out before carrying out his plan. Thanks to that, Kun moved in without any difficulty, except for the fact that in the absence of a decent kitchen table he had to throw a housewarming party in the living room, which wasn’t so bad after all (he knew his friends would ruin the place, he'd rather have them there instead of anywhere near his kitchen).

The next day Kun was in the middle of cleaning the house when Johnny and Taeyong showed up to take him to the second hand shop a few blocks away in the old town. After an hour of rummaging through an armada of broken tricycles, a set of dusty porn tapes from the 80s (“A complete set in perfect condition, you can believe me, young man!”) and various kinds of cooking tools, Taeyong found him a small wooden table for two. 

“I don’t think you’ll need a table bigger than that. You never invited anyone to your previous place except for Doyoung, but we all know the reason for th– hey! It’s not like I’m lying! Kun, stop it!” 

In the end Johnny was the one who paid for the table and carried it alone to the car, Kun being too preoccupied with tackling Taeyong on their way out of the store. Halfway home they realized that Taeyong forgot his own purchases, the enamelled saucepan and weather-worn music box in the store. To make it up, the couple invited themselves over, Johnny ordered them takeout and Taeyong helped Kun to finish cleaning.

At the end of the day, Kun was mad tired but overall satisfied. Moving out and away was always painful for him and even though it was his third occasion, it never got easier, no matter how many times he has done it before. But this time he had something he hadn’t before: his friends, who were not once annoying and constantly bickering, but willing to help him out and make Kun forget about the longing homesickness of his heart.

*

_”... and we can expect clear, spotless skies today all over the country. Last week was a disaster, the constant humidity and heat destroyed my makeup, my hair, basically every attempt to look put together for the morning show. How was it for you, Bob?”_

_”Well, Karen, I had to face a different kind of difficulty last week. For me, it was the children who didn’t want to spend the last warm summer days in school, because ladies and gentlemen, last Friday we entered the month of September and the new school year has officially begun. That’s right, thousands of kids and teens are back to their school desks and books. I bet many of you would rather spend these hot days at your local beaches, accompanied by a cool drink...”_

_”And the parents, too. Starting the new school year is always hectic and I’m sure many of you can share the sentiment. How did the preparations go? Give us a call, let’s have a chat!”_

_“And now, exclusive live broadcast from Provo, Utah, where there has been reports of a bigfoot sight…”_

Kun reached out for the tuning control and gave it a gentle swirl to switch the channel. Soon the familiar melody of _California Dreamin’_ filled the living room and Kun sighed. It was better than listening to bigfoot reports, that he was sure of. 

“So Yukhei,” he started slowly, tentatively as if the other could snap at him in any moment. He didn’t though. He only looked up from his oatmeal, signing with a single glance that Kun had his undivided attention. The older cleared his throat and continued.

“Are you working today? I was wondering… I’m only asking because…”

“The groceries, I know. You mentioned it yesterday,” Yukhei, mouth full of spoon, flashed a smile and Kun’s heart skipped a beat. He decided to ignore that. “And yes, I’m working today I’m afraid. Up until the late evening, actually.”

“Oh. I see.” 

Kun wasn’t the type to get hooked on things that bagatelle like grocery shopping. He was actually relieved that he could do it alone; after years of experience in living on his own, he developed a system that was working for him just right, letting him wander mindlessly down the aisles and still get everything on the list.

And he needed this. An hour or two alone, amongst strangers that didn’t care about how he spent his weekend or how tired he looked. Despite being a doctor and meeting patients ever single day, he still had to work on his social skills and learn how to answer with warm smiles and calm manners. 

The other seemed to be finished with his breakfast and was gone before Kun could interrogate him more. He took his bowl and spoon with him, which surprised the other. Yukhei didn’t seem like a neat person. In fact, Kun was expecting him to be messier and louder, but he couldn’t complain yet, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“What about you?”

Kun didn’t realize when the other returned. He looked up to see Yukhei, now fully clothed, leaning on the door frame leisurely. Kun narrowed his eyes. The clothes he wore gave nothing away: thick, black leather trousers with a matching jacket. He also styled his hair; the mophead Kun saw earlier was gone, his locks were pushed front to hide his forehead and now he looked like a little boy, trying to adult and Kun suppressed a chuckle. He also spotted a matte black helmet under Yukhei’s armpit, but he didn’t make a comment on it. Maybe another time.

“Actually it’s my day off, but Taeyong asked me to help him with some garden work, so I guess I’ll be away too.”

“Taeyong?” Yukhei smiled. “Your nurse friend, right?”

Kun furrowed his brows. He might be an over-sharer who rambles a lot, and for that, he doesn’t necessarily have to consume a right amount of alcohol, but he couldn’t recall telling him about Taeyong. Or any of his friends, for instance. 

“Yeah, that’s him. His boyfriend is busy with lectures and stuff, so naturally, he called me. On my day off.” Kun sighed. _But why am I telling you this? Dr. Qian, you need to get your shit together._

As if Yukhei could read his mind, a small laughter escaped his lips, turned around and made his way to the door. Five minutes after the soft ‘click’ of the lock Kun was still sitting at the breakfast table, listening to the traffic through the half-opened windows. Someone was baking a pie next door, the distinctive smell of sweetener and plum filled the air. Kun inhaled deeply.

He thought about Yukhei’s incomplete contract full of gaps about personal details, the lack of relatives or friends, the two duffels and the single trunk he brought with him on the moving day. The urgent questions were still buzzing in his mind, but at least he was aware now, that the other knew more about him than vice versa. 

His phone started to buzz in the pocket of his sweatpants and Kun decided he’ll postpone solving the mystery to another day. There were plants waiting for him after all.

* 

Taeyong’s weekend house was an hour driveway from the town where Kun lived and both of them worked. By the time he arrived Taeyong had done the majority of the work already: he found him in the middle of the flowerbed, desperately fighting with silkweed to free his beloved dahlias and asters from the chokehold. 

Kun was never a particularly sociable person. During his high school years, he had to work extra hard to get into his dream university and for someone, whose mind was constantly filled with thoughts on chemistry experiments, biology essays and university applications since the beginning, it was almost impossible to make friends. 

Then Taeyong arrived in the middle of his third year, with his icy white hair, countless piercings and cold demeanour and Kun was positive that the two of them will never have to cross paths. But he was wrong. As it has turned out, Taeyong was planning to work in healthcare too and applied for the same universities as Kun did. When the other boy approached him in the middle of an empty hallway, ten minutes after the bell rung to borrow his notes from the other day, Kun realized how prejudiced he was.

Taeyong was nothing but polite; the tips of his ears turned redder and redder according to the pace of his rambling and when he agreed to study together in the library after lunch the smile he gave Kun was blinding like the sun.

The timid, polite boy grew up with Kun; they graduated together and got accepted to the same university. While Kun went after his dream, Taeyong, never having intentions to become a doctor, applied straight for the Department of Nursing Science. They also shared a room in the university dorm until they both graduated. It’s only been a few years since then, but Kun liked to think back to these times with sheer nostalgia: the prominent smell of Caboo Bamboo that never seemed to fade away, not even during summer breaks, the quiet exam mornings (when instead of revising, Kun watched Taeyong walking around, panic-cleaning every reachable surface and mumbling Latin terminology under his breath), the dorm parties and the long study nights spent in the library.

On their second year, Kun got to know Doyoung and Taeyong met Johnny, the love of his life. That time around everything seemed to be going smoothly for all four of them and Kun was happy for finding close friends despite his busy school life. The three of them, with Johnny added to the mix; they grew inseparable. And Taeyong was the glue that held their little circle together.

Despite constantly worrying over him, Kun thought Taeyong was doing his best to get good grades, socialize and spend time with his boyfriend. He managed to stay on top of everything and Kun thought back at the once shy, quiet boy with pride in his heart.

“You should see your expression now, it’s quite a sight,” Taeyong laughed and received an elbow in his ribs in exchange. After finishing with the flowers, he allowed themselves a small break, then they moved to the vineyard to tread out the clusters. Planting, raising and treading grapes, it was all Johnny’s idea. His parents, both senior veterinarians, grew fond of viniculture after their son was born and from the age of 6, Johnny spent most of his summers playing hide-and-seek around their countless arbours. 

Kun didn’t understand why would someone bother with creating another vineyard if their parents already owned one, but seeing Taeyong, knees deep in must, face flushed and forehead covered with a thin layer of sweat, clearly enjoying himself, Kun started to suspect that maybe Johnny didn’t entirely do it for himself.

*

“You're oddly quiet today. Did something happen?” 

Kun frowned and looked up from his phone. When Taeyong decided to stop for the day, it was already late in the afternoon. The skyline was painted in blood orange, a cold breeze ruffling the grape leaves, leaving goosebumps on Kun’s naked forearms. When they entered the house, Taeyong made a beeline to the kitchen and Kun sat down on the carpet in front of the electric fireplace and waited for his return. In his mind, Kun could hear the crackling sound the artificial logs would make if they’d be burning as real ones.

The question caught him off-guard. One thing Kun simultaneously loved and hated about Taeyong that he was a damn good observer. When it came to social skills, he had everything Kun was lacking of. He could tell when his patients needed company and when was the right time for silence. He was never uncomfortable to be around and people were drawn to him naturally. And he knew Kun like the back of his hand.

“Well, actually–” There was no point of lying, he knew Taeyong would see through him the moment he’d spill something sketchy. Kun sighed and continued. “It’s Yukhei. There’s a few things that have been bugging me lately. I guess I’m just anxious for having someone else around.”

“What do you mean?”

The other was rummaging in a drawer, the buzzing sound of the microwave and metals rubbing together subdued Taeyong’s voice, but Kun didn’t miss the nervous pitch at the end of his question. He was worried and Kun regretted not distracting him earlier.

“Uhm… forget it. I’m just overreacting as always. You know I’ve always lived with people I knew: my parents, you, Ten and Guanheng, but he’s different. I won’t say a complete stranger, but I don’t really know him and… you know how I am, Yongie.”

“Oh, I know. And I think I get what you mean. But it’s not like you cannot ask him about stuff, then why don’t you?” 

Taeyong returned, balancing two plates and wine glasses in his hands and a bottle under his armpit. He plumped on the ground next to Kun, bringing a faint scent of strawberries and chocolate with him and Kun grinned. _What a sweet-tooth_.

“I guess I could. But I don’t want to seem like a douchebag, interrogating him and everything. He barely moved in, hell, he’s probably still dressing from boxes, and we’ll be living together from now on. Believe me, the least of things I want is to fuck things up at the beginning. I probably shouldn’t care about stuff like this that much, but… yeah, I think I’ll just ask. Maybe a week later or something.”

“Or you can ask him tonight. During a casual conversation, so it won’t come off weird. He’ll be coming home, right?”

“Probably.”

“It’s the perfect opportunity then. Don’t hurt your head over this, Kun! You tend to overcomplicate things, when you really shouldn’t. It’s just your flatmate, not the prime minister.”

“That’s kind of the point, but thanks a lot Taeyong.”

“Anytime, Doctor. Now, cake?”

*

Many people would hate driving in the dark, with the worst public lighting and a bumpy highway but Kun loved it. Driving mindlessly, looking at the speedometer occasionally and listening to the local night radio: these things washed most of his anxiety away like nothing else did. After eating cake and drinking freshly-made must, Kun decided it was time to go home. Talking to Taeyong usually put him at ease, but today he was more antsy than usual, not even physical activity could calm him down. He needed to drive or else he’d go mad.

_The cold road is all I know_

_The old road is where she blows_

He reached the crooked sign that marked the city border with the outlines of a plan in mind.

_The last time I asked you why_

_The last time she saw me cry_

He passed the four-lane bridge that connected the new and the old town, stomach slowly and steadily forming a knot. 

_And it's everywhere she goes_

_I don't know if it's love that she wants_

_All the love I want_

By the time he got home and stood in front of the door 777, Kun’s head was perfectly empty. _How annoying_.

He turned the key, pushed the door and stepped inside. According to the clock above the key holder it was past midnight. Kun didn’t expect him to be awake, but as soon as he entered the living room, he saw the boy sitting at their table.

He was shirtless, eyes fixed on the two plastic packs in his hands and Kun had to look away, because number one: Wong Yukhei, his flatmate was sitting there naked, body like it was sculpted by the gods and number two: he was perfectly unaware of the hard times he was currently giving Kun.

Wong Yukhei finally looked at him, turned his body sideways and held the packs high so Kun could take a better look at them: tortellini, one with spinach, the other with ham.

“Which one do you wanna try out?”

His face showed genuine curiosity and Kun was willing to swallow his annoyance to focus on the pasta in front of him instead. 

“Let’s see,” he murmured and went in further to take a closer look while trying very hard to ignore the small water droplets that slid down on the others neck to pool in the hollow above his clavicles. 

“There’s mirelit pizza with ham in the freezer, let’s have the spinach one as a side dish. What do you think?”

Yukhei’s face lit up as sparkles on the fourth of July and Kun absolutely didn’t think his smile was the most perfect thing in the universe. 

“Cool. I’ll go and boil the water. Uhm… can you help me with the oven? I’d rather not burn your kitchen down.”

Kun normally would have laughed, but the concern on the other’s face seemed real, so he only nodded and made his way to the kitchen with Yukhei on his heels. He only realized the big brown bag, tumbled on the table, its contents scattered all over the surface. Kun stopped midways, which caused the other to bump into him from behind. 

“You… did the groceries?”

He spun around to find his eyes, but Yukhei was already staring at him, the corner of his mouth curving upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Why wouldn’t I? You asked me to do so.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t seem to be thrilled in the morning when I brought it up again.” Kun felt like he should’ve been thanking him and move on, instead of asking questions like a fusspot, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Now that he finally got something _real_.

Yukhei hummed in agreement, gaze so intense it almost pierced a hole into Kun’s soul.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. You can ask me to do stuff like this, you know. I might look like I don’t care or I don’t pay attention but I really do. I… I listen to everything you’re saying.” The last part of the sentence was finished in a hurry and with a few quick steps, Yukhei passed the dumbfounded Kun by to start preparing their late dinner. 

*

The small bathroom might not be the coziest part of the apartment, but Kun didn’t mind. He bought the bare minimum to decorate and equip it according to its function, so there was nothing fancy about it, and he didn’t need more. 

He told Yukhei to boil the water and find the pizza in the mess of the various kinds of frozen foods he was storing in the freezer while he went to take a quick shower. His ears and hair were full of sand and sweat stuck the thin fabric of his shirt to his skin uncomfortably. When the hot steam of water hit the back of his neck, Kun sighed happily and let the shower wash away today’s exhaustion and weariness. 

He got out of the tub and turned to face the mirror by the sink when it happened. He was blindly reaching for a towel behind his back, not daring to take his eyes off of his reflection that was somehow... off. Kun held out his hand, pressed his palms to the cold surface to swipe the fog away and as he went on, his body appeared in the mirror gradually: his eyes, his face, neck and chest, wet skin glistening under the neon tubes, and still.

Qian Kun didn’t believe. He grew up with books about dinosaurs, rain forests and the ocean. Scorching summer days meant exploring the local forest, clear summer nights meant stargazing with his dad. He was raised on science and science grew around him. His parents took him to church every Sunday and Kun could easily accept that evolution worked together with a higher being in order to create the universe. Qian Kun didn’t believe. He _knew_.

At the age of six he met a little girl who told him he was wearing the _Hermit’s Sign_ on his skin. When Kun asked her to explain, she only shook her head. “You cannot see it. It’s invisible, embedded into your skin. Cherish it while you can!” Kun didn’t sleep that night. He was staring at the darkness through his tears, nails subconsciously crawling his arms, legs and face to erase the _sign_ , leaving angry red marks all over his body.

At the age of fifteen he went to the market downtown to pick fresh fruits for her mother’s birthday cake when an old lady, dressed in black from top to toe approached him. She didn’t say a single word, but handed him a small bag of dried lavender and a transparent piece of crystal with a single-sentenced instruction: _Keep it, otherwise They’ll find you!_ On his way home Kun dispersed the flowers on an escarp and prayed that he was doing the right thing.

At the age of twenty-four he finished med school. After the formal ceremony he let himself be dragged to a fancy nightclub by his former classmates to celebrate. He couldn’t recall the face of the girl, nor her name, but he remembered sitting on a toilet seat, glossy lips nibbling on his jaw, then whispering to his ear while unbuckling his belt: “Beware the Fool, sweet lover boy! He’ll lead you on once, twice then devour you whole.” His brain was too slow to contemplate the meaning of the words but a moment later they were kissing again and he didn’t care anymore. By the time dawn approached Kun forgot the girl and her cryptic words. 

He was warned thrice in his life, but he never listened.

Qian Kun didn’t believe. He didn’t have a reason to do so. When you meet people every day and see what they’re capable of doing to each other, where suffering and healing are coming hand in hand, just like living and dying and what happens inside the human body can be explained by science, stuff like this had no place in a doctor's life.

Or Qian Kun thought so.

But his rock-solid conviction won’t send away the dark, amorph shadow that was clinging to his bare skin, blurring the once sharp edges of his body and folding an iron grip around his ribcage the way he could hardly breath. Kun was sure of that.

 _10 seconds_. He tried… he tried to think with the cold, rational side of his brain, but with every passing second he grew more and more desperate.

 _20 seconds_. Tears started brimming at the corners of his bloodshot eyes and Kun blinked rapidly, as if it’d make the black ink mass disappear. It didn’t.

 _30 seconds_. Kun gripped his own neck to loosen the invisible grip around it while his mind filled up with Professor Han’s monotone voice that informed him: after a minute of oxygen deprivation his brain cells will slowly starve to death, three minutes and lasting brain damage will become likely, two more minutes, and he can say goodbye to this life on Earth. 

_40 seconds_. Kun’s skin was barely visible now, hot tears spilling from behind his tightly squeezed eyelids. _This is how it ends, then._ If he'd knew it, he’d have woken up earlier today. He’d have been straight with his flatmate. He’d have visited his parents, said goodbye to his mother and apologised to his cousin for not making it to the baby shower this weekend. He’d have hugged Taeyong a little tighter and kissed Him for one last time.

Somewhere in the distance a bell started to ring and Kun saw golden stars exploding at the back of his skull. He heard someone banging on the bathroom door. Or was it the last desperate effort of his own heart, begging for oxygen and life? He didn’t know. They were calling out his name and Kun never wanted to answer so badly in his life, but his consciousness was slowly melting into jelly, when…

The pressure on his lungs was suddenly gone and Kun inhaled so sharply he almost choked again. Relief washed over him like ocean waves, and he felt his wobbly legs finally giving out on him. He collapsed on the cold tile the same time Yukhei barged through the door, panting heavily.

“Kun. _Kun_. Oh my God, Kun, are you alright?” He fell on his knees next to Kun and framed his face with his large palms. They were dry and calloused around the edges and Kun looked up to see the other’s dark doe eyes slowly filling with concern. 

_No, I’m not,_ Kun wanted to say, but the words died in his throat as soon as he tried to form them. Instead, he let the other wrap his arms around him and flush his still trembling body to his chest. Kun grabbed his shirt and balled his fists, head buried in the other’s shoulder. He inhaled slowly, deeply and tried not think about how embarrassed he normally would be for being completely naked in front of someone who he barely knew. Yukhei was firm under him, his heart was fluttering in its cage like a little bird's. He felt alive, achingly alive. His fingers tangled in Kun’s damp hair as a clumsy attempt to soothe him and the older felt gratitude blooming in his heart. 

When his arms weren’t twitching so violently anymore and he finally stopped sobbing (Kun didn’t realize when he started in the first place), Yukhei helped him to his feet and wrapped a towel around his smaller frame. It wasn’t his own and Kun inhaled the unfamiliar scent that reminded him of bergamot, gasoline and home. They took a few small steps towards the door and before leaving Kun looked back to inspect his own reflection one more time. 

It was crystal clear.

*

“How many degrees again?”

“220 Celsius. Also choose conventional heating.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“God, you're helpless.”

“Why? I never used the oven before. Not alone, at least. My previous roommates never let me use the kitchen all by myself.”

“Can't imagine why.”

Yukhei made a face and Kun flashed a toothy smile towards his direction. He was fully clothed now, hair completely flat from being air dried and eyes still bloodshot as the remnants of being choked not long ago. Kun knew he should’ve been far more upset, terrified even and as always, he used cooking as a coping mechanism that couldn’t solve any of his problems, but at least made him forget. For a while.

He plopped down from the counter and gently pushed the boy out of the way to set the oven. Yukhei leaned on the windowsill, careful enough not to knock over the empty milk bottles and the high tower of various kinds of gardening, medical and cookbooks. Kun knew he was being observed, he saw the other folding his arms from the corner of his eyes. 

“So,” he started and Kun sighed defeatedly. He leaned back as well, casually, as if they’d only be discussing the weather. “Care to tell me what happened back there?”

“No,” said Kun after short consideration.

“Oh, come on! I’ve heard you. You were struggling and… I... I thought I was late.” 

While looking at his face, Kun could find traces of the same concern he saw earlier in the bathroom. The other was genuinely worried about him.

“Did you have a panic attack? It’s totally fine if you did, you can tell me.”

His tone wasn’t mocking, but Kun didn’t answer right away. For a while only the rhythmic clicking of the oven timer and the buzzing old fridge could be heard. The silence that stretched between them was getting heavy with tension and Kun knew he had to come up with an explanation, but he needed more time.

And, of course, he couldn’t tell the truth. That would sound lovely. _Hey, so, I know you just moved in, but something in the bathroom tried to strangle me to death and I have no idea what it was, but since you’re new here I thought I’d let you know, in case of, you know, it tries to kill you too. Anyways, please let me know if you experience something similar._ No fucking way.

“Yeah. I had a panic attack. I have no idea why, it never happened before. But I’m alright now, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“But…”

“I said I’m fine. Can we just move on, please?” 

Yukhei glanced at him in disbelief but nodded anyways and Kun was happy he didn’t push the topic further. If he’d told the truth the other would’ve thought he’s gone mad. And won’t believe him anyways, so there was no point. Besides, Kun himself had no idea what happened exactly and it was far more concerning than lying to his flatmate.

A few minutes had passed, when the ringing of the timer jolted Kun out of his thoughts. He and Yukhei moved in unison: Kun to open the oven, Yukhei to scoop the pizza pan from the counter. After closing the door, Kun set the timer again, then the pair looked at each other. 

Kun could tell the other was nervous — he shifted his gaze elsewhere and thread his fingers through his hair multiple times before Kun realized the wounds that covered his knuckles. The other was bleeding. He caught his wrist mid-air and Yukhei jumped in surprise.

“What…”

“You’re hurt.” 

Kun brought the other’s hand closer to his face (his fingers looked ridiculously pale and childish wrapped around Yukhei’s huge palm) and let his doctor persona take over him during the impromptu examination. The skin was flaming hot and slightly torn around the swollen knuckles. One of his wounds reopened, a fresh streamlet of blood found its way to Kun’s palms, streaming down on his wrist, connecting them like a bizarre oath. There was a bruised area around the knuckle of his little finger and Kun gently pushed it. It felt hard under his thumb and Yukhei hissed in pain. 

“Sorry. There’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom. Do you want me to…?”

To Kun surprise, Yukhei didn’t let go. He intertwined their fingers instead, loose enough not to stretch the wounds even more and pulled Kun with him towards the hallway. A stray fragment of thought about the safety issues of the bathroom came to his mind, but Kun didn’t dwell on it. The younger didn’t think twice either, he held out his free hand and pushed down the handle. 

The bathroom looked completely normal and as they were stepping inside, Kun let out his breath he didn’t realize he was holding. After they made sure it was safe, Kun told Yukhei to wait in his room, then rummaged through the drawer under the sink until he found the small red box, marked with a white cross.

His eyes quickly found what he was looking for: a bottle of Betadine, an unopened package of sterilized gauze and a roll of wide bandage. He scooped up everything and made his way to his bedroom.

It was semi-dark inside the room thanks to the small lamp the younger lit up on the bedside table. He was sitting on the edge of Kun’s bed, inspecting the luminous constellation and planet stickers on the ceiling. Under the warm orange light his skin was glowing more than usual and in that moment he resembled more of a greek god than a lanky teenager, even with his overwashed shirt and bruised knuckles. Kun didn’t quite understand where this elegance came from, but he found it equally endearing and terrifying.

Not wanting to seem like a stalker, Kun tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. Without any warning, he inched closer and dropped on his knees in front of the other, trying to focus strictly on the task that was given instead of the mental images that flooded his mind because of the position they were in. Yukhei seemed a bit startled, then surprised until he finally settled with a bashful expression. 

The thick aroma of the disinfectant.

A few light dabs on the damaged skin.

The layered gauze on the open wound, quickly soaked in blood.

A few rolls of bandage around the wrist, a new batch of gauze.

A quick circulation check.

“I think we’re done here.”

He was about to stand up when he felt a large palm grabbing his jaw, gently forcing him to look up. His eyes pierced into Kun’s and slowly travelled down on his neck, and the same time a sly smile crept on the plush lips. Yukhei propped his other elbow on his thigh and leaned closer until their faces were only inches away. Kun lifted an eyebrow.

“Thank you, Doctor. I really appreciate it.” Yukhei said, hot breath ghosting over Kun’s lips.

 _He’s doing it on purpose_ , Kun realized. He tried to keep a straight face, but the look in the other’s eyes made his legs tremble the way he knew the other must have noticed it too. _But two can play this game._

Kun rose on his knees and grabbed both of Yukhei’s thighs hard enough to bruise, spreading them further apart. He leaned towards him, forcing the other to retreat, lower back sinking into the mattress. A light blush dusted his cheeks and Kun smiled triumphantly as he watched his chest rising and falling unevenly. 

“You’re welcome. Next time just ask me! I don’t bite, you know.” 

Kun shifted his body impossibly closer to the point where he felt the other’s erection, pressing hard against his stomach. Contrary to the popular belief, Kun wasn’t a soft touch. Not even the slightest. And he was eager to let the other know. When Yukhei finally gasped for air, Kun only chuckled and leaned back to release the tension between them. 

“Was that the oven I’ve heard?”

* 

“What have you done?”

“Huh?”

“Your hand. What happened?”

The pasta and the pizza were long gone and since their home was in complete lack of alcohol (thanks to Johnny and Jaehyun who, after drinking what they’ve brought as presents for the housewarming party, thought they’d be nice enough to help Kun “clean the liquor cabinet”) Kun decided to make themselves some tea. 

Nights like this were his favourites. The neighborhood he lived in was a relatively quiet one; most of the houses were owned or rented by big families with little children or retired couples.

Kun liked it that way. The hospital was lively enough for him to get the right amount of social interactions to avoid getting lonely and by the time he arrived either from his morning or night shifts, his head was buzzing from listening to the loudspeaker, his colleagues and his patients all day. He even got sick of his own demanding voice sometimes. 

Quiet evenings like this meant regeneration. And regeneration meant tea. Yukhei was sitting on the ground with the tea box on his lap and a small furrow between his brows as a proof that he was struggling to pick one flavour from Kun’s impressive collection of teabags. He looked serene. Content. But the question shook him from his thoughts. 

“I was working.”

“On what? And why didn’t you wear protective gloves, then?”

“I thought I won’t need them.” He sighed deeply, and turned to Kun. “I cannot decide. Any recommendations?”

“Well, sweet or sour?”

“Sweet.” Yukhei answered in a heartbeat and Kun hummed. _What a baby._

“Flowers or fruits?” 

“Flowers. Definitely.”

“Weird. Most people would choose fruits over flowers. They can’t get over the “plant taste”.” Taeyong used these exact words once when describing how chamomile tea tasted like. Before Kun could express his disapproval, Doyoung threw in a comment about Taeyong’s sweet tooth and in result, the irrelevance of his opinion and the two started to argue, leaving Kun and Johnny to enjoy the show. 

“But that’s the best thing about blooming tea, isn’t it? At least in my opinion.”

Kun smiled. 

“Exactly. Last question: going out or one-night-stand?” That didn’t really defy anything, Kun only asked because he liked the way the other’s face burned up immediately and, despite the quietly humming music and the boiling water, he heard Yukhei's breath hitch in his throat. 

“I’m not sure how this would help me decide on the flavour.”

“It won’t,” Kun reassured. “I’m just curious.”

Yukhei remained silent for so long it seemed like Kun won’t get an answer. He was about to stand up to check on the water when he heard the younger whisper.

“The latter. I don’t do relationships.”

“Aren’t you a little too young to sound this bitter?” His tone was mocking, but after seeing the other’s blank expression, Kun regretted his words immediately.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. It’s _àilián_ , by the way.”

“ _Àilián_?” 

“The name of the tea. It’s a hibiscus-lemongrass mix. The one I always drink after an exhausting surgery day. I think you’ll like it.” Kun flashed a smile at him that the other slowly reciprocated, although it didn’t reach his eyes. Yukhei picked out the tea bag, handed the box to Kun and disappeared in the dark living room. 

_I shouldn't have made assumptions_ , Kun thought, guilt stirring up his guts. He didn't know anything about his flatmate, only shallow crumbs of informations. He was determined to change that mainly because his newly-found attraction towards the other wasn't purely physical; there was something about his presence that left Kun restless, paranoid even. If digging deeper and discovering more meant hurting the younger at some point, Kun was willing to pay the prize.

To his surprise, Yukhei came back, visibly calmer and more collected. The collar of his shirt was moist, but Kun was more interested in the large crate the other was struggling to carry with him. Before he could peak at what's inside, Yukhei already dropped it on the table, scattering small wooden pieces all over the surface. Kun let it slide, solely because of what he saw on the other’s face: pure, almost childish joy. 

“Well, that’s it.”

“That’s great,” Kun said with faked enthusiasm. “And what is it?”

Now it was the younger’s turn to be confused.

“You asked me what I did. I’ve been working on this for a few weeks now.”

“Without gloves.”

“Yeah.”

His smile was blending under the dim light of the dining room and Kun couldn’t help but mirror it. He motioned towards the crate and Yukhei moved immediately. It wasn’t only one thing, rather a few smaller ones. As he put them on the table in a row, Kun’s brain slowly registered the components of some kind of machine.

He touched the one that was the closest: red and yellow tubes were attached to each side, but the colors were barely visible. Black oil clinged to the tips of his fingers where he touched them and the familiar smell filled Kun’s nose. It was the same that lingered on Yukhei’s hair, clothes and belongings.

“It’s nearly finished,” he mumbled while sitting down and grabbed the biggest piece from the remaining pile, ignoring the sticky material that stained his fingers already. The last time Kun saw someone being this excited was when the whole ward went out for dinner and Yangyang found out their place was serving _Hochzeitssuppe_. “I’m making a linear, you see. I already planned out the whole thing, but a few components take more time to find than I intended to. I still need a good battery with high efficiency, something strong for shielding, klystrons, a few of them though, a Copper tu–”

“Hold on, hold on. Klystrons? A Copper tube?” Kun asked, feeling a headache already forming behind his frontal lobe. He blinked hard a few times to clear his blurry vision. _God, why me?_ “You cannot be serious.”

Yukhei shot him a bored look. “Do I look like a joke to you?”

“What? No, I didn’t say that. But this,” Kun spread out his arm, hovering the air above the table. “this is dangerous. And it’s not about the house.” Kun said when he saw the other opening his mouth to interrupt him. “It’s about you.”

Yukhei scoffed. “What about me?” He tried to avoid Kun’s arm reach, but he wasn’t fast enough. The other caught his shirt on his chest and balled his fist before he could move any further, bringing their upper bodies closer. He might not be the tallest or the strongest from the two of them, but his rage. Oh, his rage was a force to be reckoned with.

“Now listen to me carefully because I won’t repeat myself. I’m not letting you destroy this place and put our neighbors’ lives at stake. I’m not letting you do stupid things just because you think you’re an adult. If anything happens, I take the blame. And more importantly, I’ll never, under any circumstances, let you build a fucking particle accelerator in the middle of the living room. Is that clear?”

The few seconds long intense staring contest was broken by Yukhei, who seemed to chew on every single word Kun said. Finally, he beamed at Kun, seemingly ignoring all the previously listed warnings.

“How much do you know about time machines?”

*

11:00 pm. 

Joohyun just finished fixating Simon Mealy’s head with the _3-pins_ , and now was getting ready for shaving. Sicheng and Jeonghan were standing next to the anaesthetic machine, heads put together. Kun heard Sicheng’s soft, but slightly annoyed voice, debating which size they should use for the scalpel. Hong Jisoo and Na Jaemin were only a few meters away, listening to the never ending rumbles of the lead nurse and the senior resident.

The woman with the buzzing electric shaver in her hand looked in their direction. “Jisoo, can you come over here a bit?”

The young nurse nodded and went around the surgery table with Jaemin on his heels to listen to the quiet explanation on the correct way of lumbar drain and how to measure the suitable mannitol dose for brain relaxation. 

The last synthesizer notes of _Personal Jesus_ mingled with the various kinds of conversation glints, the running devices and the doctor felt like arriving home.

The operating room was a place he was dreaming of since he finished the last round of his residency. He always wanted to be a doctor but surgery only came up as a possibility when he reached his third year of med school. While many of his classmates had been struggling with memorising the different kinds of surgical wounds and wrap their heads around the basic suturing techniques, Kun gave outstanding performances during every practical classes and closed the term with a perfect score on the theoretical exam.

His professors praised him endlessly, saying he was born with a scalpel in his hand and Kun always laughed them off politely. In reality, he knew he wasn’t a born talent; his success was the result of long, teeth-chattering nights spent in the study room with practicing hard and studying even harder, even after his friends gave up and went to bed.

The possibility of becoming a neurosurgeon came up towards graduation when they had to sign up for residency. His grades were perfect, the chances of getting a hospital close to his home town were high, and there was Doyoung, of course. Kun didn’t need any more reasons.

Kun was so caught up in reminiscing the past that he didn’t hear the door opening then closing in a hurry. He flinched a bit when two pale hands slid around his waist, giving Kun a light squeeze on top of his baggy scrub top. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, the other let him go as soon as Kun turned around to witness the team’s half-hearted efforts to hide their smirks. _Bastards._

“About time. What took you so long? I thought you got lost or something.”

“Mrs. Wesolowski got her meds mixed up again. I already asked Jaehyun to look up the med recs of the past week, but I don’t think he was listening to me. Not that a few hours of delay would make a big difference, but–”

“Doyoung, I’m not mad. It’s f– well, it’s actually not fine, but it happens, right? Go scrub up!” Kun said with a smile lingering on his lips which Doyoung answered with a smirk, then made his way to the faucet.

The doctor looked at the clock on his iPod. 11:13. Both the local and the mannitol should have done the job by now. He quickly took his place at the end of the table and grabbed the marker. It was a sign for the others to come closer, too. Sicheng and Jeonghan seemed to agree on the scalpel size because they both were quiet, eyes boring into Kun's, waiting for instructions. Based on the CT they were dealing with a relatively small, ruptured aneurysm around the temporal area, therefore locating and closing the bulge should have been a smooth procedure. 

When Doyoung arrived next to him, properly scrubbed, Kun inhaled sharply and began. “Alright, so here’s what we are going to do: based on the CT results subarachnoid hemorrhage occurred because of a small, ruptured aneurysm of an artery. Our goal is to isolate the aneurysm from the normal circulation without blocking off any small perforating arteries nearby.” 

Being the one to directly work with the patients, Kun didn’t have to explain everything in details to the others. The nurses had quite a few similar experiences, but Jeonghan, his resident and Jaemin weren’t so familiar with the procedure. The latter shouldn’t even be here, but since he was so keen on learning, the physician gave him a special permission to inspect.

Kun had a strong suspicion that it was more for Jaemin’s pretty face and sharp tongue rather than his undying dedication, but he figured it was for the best, not to voice his opinion in front of Jaehyun.

*

They were an hour and a half into the procedure when Kun felt it: a subtle ache in the middle of his chest. He vaguely remembered bumping into someone earlier this day that could have caused it, so he brushed the feeling aside. It took quite a long time to detect the aneurysm, even though it practically lit up on the monitors. It was Doyoung who went ahead and found it before him.

Kun was a bit jealous, even though he knew he shouldn’t be. From the two of them Doyoung was the one who had a special training in cerebrovascular surgery, so that shouldn't be surprising at all. Again, he had more experience.

Suddenly, sharp pain bolted through Kun’s chest, taking his breath away and for a second he was so surprised he almost dropped the forceps in his hand. It felt like someone buried a knife in his heart and swirled it around. When his vision cleared again, Kun looked around to check whether the others have noticed anything.

Joohyun and Jisoo were behind the large monitor, checking for any abnormalities in vital signs and Jaemin went to the bathroom 15 minutes ago. Sicheng stood closer to his right, gloved hands gripping on the retractors firmly. Jeonghan wrote something in the records and Kun took a deep breath. They didn’t notice, then. On his left, however, Doyoung nudged him with an elbow, seeking for attention.

His expression was hard to read because of the mask, but his eyebrow arched high on his forehead. _“Are you okay?”_

Kun rolled his eyes, but nodded twice as a reassurance. _“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?_

Doyoung didn’t answer. He looked at Jeonghan instead. “Hey, Jeonghan! Based on the perimeter and the shape of the rupture, what kind of clip would you use?”

Kun sighed and watched the resident stepping next to Doyoung with stiff determination and a hint of annoyance on his face. The small metal tray he was holding was covered with clips in various shapes and sizes. All the three of them knew Jeonghan couldn’t possibly tell which one was the right one, but he tried to guess anyways.

Kun always thought he was being foolish, but Doyoung found it amusing. While Kun was kind enough to explain procedures in details, not expecting his students to understand everything for the first try, Doyoung’s way of teaching meant throwing them into the deep and teasing them endlessly if they failed to comprehend. It was mean, even said surgeon admitted, but it was also very efficient. Jeonghan graduated with honors and Jaemin, alongside Yangyang probably knew more than most of their classmates already. 

Kun suppressed a chuckle as he peeked at the tray and chose the right clip and put the forceps in Doyoung’s empty hand. 

“Dr. Kim, stop bullying our resident before he changes his mind and switches departments. Go find and clip that parent artery, if you'll be so kind.”

Doyoung opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by the OR door that swung open and Jaehyun, who marched in with a few colorful folders in his hands. Jaemin was right behind him and when he caught the look Kun shot him, his cheeks flushed. They watched the physician putting on a hat and a mask, then making his way towards them.

Kun got to know Jung Jaehyun when he started to work in his hospital as a resident. He was still a rookie when the older doctor transferred here as a substitute for the current attending physician. Thanks to Jaehyun’s easy-going personality, the three of them became friends quickly.

Jaehyun was able to pull up with Doyoung’s grumpy comments and Kun’s occasional nervous breakdowns, and he was an exquisite mentor. He was responsible for the whole hospital, but his favourite ward was quickly established after getting to know the neurosurgery residents better. 

“Dr. Qian, Dr. Kim.”” He met Doyoung in the middle of the room and nodded towards Kun’s direction. Kun didn’t respond.

“Dr. Jung. May I ask what are you doing in here?”

Jaehyun flashed a brilliant smile, holding his ground while completely ignoring Doyoung’s attempt to shove him towards the door.

“We solved Mrs. Wesolowski’s medicine problem. Hyunjin signed last week, so I guess something went wrong there. I’ll look for her later. What is it?”

The last part of the question was aimed at Kun, who already finished putting the clip on. He double-checked to make sure the small arteries weren’t caught in it, then switched places with Jeonghan after whispering a couple of short instructions to him and Sicheng. Jisoo and Joohyun also stayed behind to run the angiography test and urged the two surgeons to get changed first.

“To answer your question Jaehyun,” Kun said when the door of the changing room closed behind them and started to discard his uniform piece by piece. “Simon Mealy, 36. Paramedics took him in after 2 days of a light head injury with severe headache, vomiting and nausea. During general check-up he was unbalanced and photophobe, so Jeonghan ran a CT, then an LP. A fractured, depressed skull with a ruptured aneurysm. He also suspected SAH and he was damn right.”

“Yeah, sounds like you had fun with that. How long?”

Doyoung looked at his wrist watch he put back on a moment ago. “More than 2 hours.” He made a face, but Kun knew better than to take him seriously. Doyoung was the most dedicated and hard-working doctor Kun has ever known. He was a pro, and he loved every single moment he could spend in the OR.

Kun got to know him after the first two months as a medical student. He had a huge anatomy test around that time, but the library was full that day, so Kun, not having any other available options, made his way back to the dorm when it started raining. Every other day of the week, he’d carried an umbrella with him, but not that day apparently. Having that building the closest, Kun ran towards the staircases of the old Department of Ophthalmology building to seek refuge. The problem was that someone was there already, taking up the tiny space under the mossy transparent roof.

He was balancing a heavy anatomy atlas and disposable coffee cup in his hands and looked like Kun’s mere presence was the most annoying thing in the whole world. He shot him a bored look and gestured Kun impatiently to leave.

Kun knew who the tall, raven haired boy was. He sat in the front row during every lecture, had the most unnerving questions on topics none of his classmates recalled studying before and was straight-up insolent. Kun only knew about the former two, but that day he experienced the latter. 

(They didn’t talk after that, not even once, but based on that brief encounter Kun took an instant dislike to Kim Doyoung. He still believed though, that he could’ve easily ignored him if he’d only been annoying and rude. But his arrogance made Kun’s blood boil like nothing else before. He promised himself to be better than him in everything.

 _Gosh, we were so stupid back then,_ Kun thought bittersweetly. The start of their relationship wasn’t as smooth as both parties wanted it to and they spent almost two years at each other’s throats because of that. The breaking point arrived in a form of their third year’s semester opening party.)

The faucet was still running and Kun caught himself staring at the water pooling at the bottom of the sink. Someone snapped twice close to his ear as an attempt to bring him back to reality.

“Hey. You okay?”

Kun looked at the men who looked back at him with appraising eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Kun expected Doyoung to start arguing, since he was the only one who saw him back in the OR, but the other didn’t say a word, only motioned towards the exit. 

“We still have to sign a few papers, but you go first Jaehyun. We’ll be with you in a minute,” Doyoung said when they finally stepped out of the room to the hallway. Jaehyun nodded, and they watched him disappear behind the nearest corner. When there was no one around, Doyoung grabbed the cuff of his shirt and Kun let himself be dragged to an empty corridor.

The LED tubes on the ceiling lit up automatically, coating the place in a gentle white glow and Kun leaned against the wall, back pressed to the cold surface. He caught a glimpse of two storage rooms on the opposite side before Doyoung appeared in front of him, pressing his palm firmly on Kun’s chest, expression blank.

“Doyoung, I'm–” he started but the other cut him off with a light push. “If you're telling me you’re fine one more time I’m going to be really pissed.”

“But it’s true though. I bumped into someone this morning, I think my body woke up from the shock just now. I’m telling you, it’s nothing.” 

Somewhere in the distance a door swung open, rebounding loudly from the wall and the loudspeaker called someone’s name, too far for Kun to make out whose. 

Doyoung furrowed his brows, not entirely convinced. “Kun, you should have seen your face. You looked like you were about to drop on the floor any minute. And you expect me to believe that _it’s nothing._ ”

Kun lifted his arms to palm the back of Doyoung’s hands with his own. The other worried about him that much and Kun’s heart fluttered at the thought. He leaned closer until their noses almost touched, lips curving into a tired, faint smile.

“I’d never lie to you about something like this. I’m doing alright now,” Kun continued “but if it gets more serious, you’ll be the first to know. You believe me?”

Doyoung’s stare was dripping with such strange fondness Kun had to suppress the urge to look elsewhere. When he answered, it was barely a whisper with only a memory of the sharpness he used before.

“I do,” 

Not sensing any movements, the automatic lights shut down, leaving complete darkness behind and in a heartbeat, Kun closed the distance between the two of them. Their kiss started off as light, tentative pecks, then it quickly became desperate and messy. The other tried to be gentle, but quickly lost control when Kun inched closer to him, moaning loudly into his mouth.

Doyoung pressed Kun’s body harder to the wall and the other dug his fingers into the flesh of his shoulder blades. Kun needed this, feeling Doyoung’s presence overpowering him, how he shoved his skillful tongue into his mouth, the sensation of his calloused thumb caressing the heated skin under his jaw.

Kun was aching all day for some kind of redemption. A skinny prize for something he didn’t do and Doyoung was happy to award him. When they parted for air, panting heavily on each other’s lips, shaky legs barely supporting their weight, Kun began to realize their own physical limits. It was amusing 

“Oh my! Is it just me or you really are getting old? What happened to your stamina, Doctor?” Kun teased quietly, earning a deadly glare and a smack on the arm in exchange. _This shift is ought to be entertaining._

*

“...and they could’ve at least told us what was going on. Or leave a fucking post-it note with a _“Hey assholes! We totally switched up your time tables and forgot to inform you. Good luck figuring out the rest!”_ Man, I’m so fucking pissed!”

Kun and Doyoung arrived just in time to witness one of Choi Seungcheol’s annual breakdowns. The bulky man was responsible for another department, but he was good friends with Jeonghan and Jisoo, so it wasn’t strange to find the three of them chatting in the lobby of the northern entrance.

Kun felt sympathy towards the nurse. Everyone had tough luck these first few weeks, but the nurses were constantly under pressure and the doctors were amazed by their iron nerves and endless patience.

After the surgery they had a quick snack break, then the team scattered to run the usual loops: errands, changing infusions, calculating drug dosages, squeezing another minor surgery in until the sun came up and they could sign off for the day.

As they got closer Kun saw the others in the lobby. It was near 7 a.m.; outside the dawn rain was pouring gently, smearing the silhouettes of the trees and cars in the parking lot, inside the wall speakers played generic pop music and as far as Kun could see all of his members were dead on their feet, bloodshed eyes blinking towards the door, waiting for the rest of the morning shift to arrive.

Joohyun and Sicheng were sitting on the worn-out couch with paper cups in their hands, seemingly deep in a conversation. Next to them at the attendant’s desk Jisoo leaned on Jeonghan’s shoulder and the resident held him by the elbow, laughing at whatever Seungcheol told them just now. On both sides of the automatic door two massive armchairs were standing face-to-face, but only one of them was occupied. Kun could only see the crown of Jaehyun’s grape colored hair and one of his toned arms, wrapped around the small waist that belonged to Na Jaemin.

The intern was sitting on the armrest, body twisted in a weird angle, completely oblivious to the knowing smiles the others shot towards their direction. From this angle it was hard to tell what kind of conversation the two might have had, but judging the small tremors that bolted through Jaemin’s body, Kun assumed it must have been a funny topic.

“What do you think?” Doyoung asked quietly and Kun didn’t have to ask about what.

“I thought Jaemin was after Yangyang. Now this is interesting.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Those two are so lovey-dovey sometimes it’s making me sick.” 

Kun raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure whether Doyoung was joking or not, but it certainly was a bold statement from someone who made the exact same face while watching baby animal compilations on Youtube, bundled up in a fluffy blanket.

“I’m not surprised, though. Jaehyun can’t shut up about him for weeks now, I’m pretty sure the only thing that’s holding him back is Yangyang himself. He said something about wanting to give a chance for them first.” Kun sighed. _Jaehyun and his golden heart._

“Wanna bet?” asked Doyoung, not tearing his eyes away from the pair. He didn’t wait for an answer and continued. “The others already did.”

Kun gave him a rueful look. “That’s just typical. How is the ratio?”

“3:2 that Jaehyun will get bored eventually and ask him out first.”

“Make it 3:3, then.” It was worth it. If for nothing else, Kun thought, than for the bewildered expression on Doyoung’s face. The rational side of his brain knew it was pointless, that none of them will win in the end, but playing around for the sake of it was fun.

Another rousing laughter filled the lobby when the glass door opened and the next shift marched through the hall, leaving muddy footprints all over the carpet. They quickly discussed the night’s happenings, then bid farewell.

At this hour the parking lot barely started to fill up, Kun had seen a few familiar faces but didn’t want to stop for chatting. In his mind he was already home in bed, after a warm shower and a light breakfast. Next to him Doyoung was silent, probably thinking about similar things. Halfway through Kun realized he left his lunch bag inside, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back for it. When they reached the car, Kun turned to the other.

“Do you want a lift?”

*

Doyoung’s apartment was relatively close to the hospital, giving him the opportunity to avoid traffic and go to work on foot. Kun thought he was extremely lucky and sometimes he wished he could’ve found a place for himself that was also this close, but since he was satisfied with his current living arrangements, he didn’t see any reason to change that.

After they finished their residency, although Doyoung offered him to move in together, Kun couldn’t accept the generous offer. He found a place by then and didn’t want to burden the other with his presence anyways.

The car ride was short and quiet. None of them felt the need to fill the silence, but that didn’t make it uncomfortable. From the corner of his eyes Kun saw Doyoung trying his best not to fall asleep and after 25 minutes when they arrived at his place, he slowly unbuckled his seat belt and turned to Kun with a gummy smile plastered on his face. 

“Thanks a lot. I’m not sure if I could’ve walked home alone without falling asleep.”

Kun laughed and reached out to ruffle the other’s hair. “You know that’s impossible Doi.” Doyoung leaned into the touch, nuzzling the flesh of Kun’s palm and his heart clenched at the sight. Doyoung pouted, then smiled again. “I know smart-ass. See you tonight!”

He grabbed the handle and the door swung open, but before he could climb out Kun thought better.

“Doyoung!” He called out and when the other turned back, he grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Doyoung’s lips were rough under Kun’s gentle peck and when he pulled away he saw the other smirking shamelessly. 

“See you tonight Doctor!” He laughed and shut the door close. Kun swore his heart was still pounding when he made a beeline and took the main road that lead him home.

*

If Qian Kun would have any idea what was waiting for him back home, he’d have never approached the apartment complex that day. In fact, he wouldn’t even have left the hospital in the first place.

He should have suspected something was wrong when he didn’t see the door with the three identical metal numbers above the eyehole. It was left ajar and Kun felt cold sweat dripping down between his shoulder blades as he approached the apartment. He barely heard the faint thuds coming from inside, the drumming blood in his ears was so loud it subdued every other noise.

Kun hesitated, then strode over the doorstep and hunched down, placing his backpack on the ground silently. Someone has been struggling to move the furniture around, the jarring noises of wood on wood made his skin crawl, but at least it meant that the intruder would most likely be unarmed. Or at least Kun hoped so.

Judging by the shallow gasps and frustrated groans the stranger was finished with the couch and was aiming for the flower stand next to it. Kun crept closer, still hiding behind the short wall between the kitchen and the dining room. He knew the iron stand was too heavy to carry alone, it took three people to lift only when he moved in. And a few months ago Kun separated a few mint bushes; those ceramic pots also meant extra weight. There was zero chance they could move it.

Kun took a deep breath and decided. He straightened his back and leaped in the middle of the room, ready to throw his whole body on the intruder if necessary. 

A high-pitched scream, something heavy falling on the floor.

It wasn’t a burglar.

It was Wong Yukhei.

“Sweet Mother of The Living God! Qian Kun, what the actual fuck!?” 

He sounded completely out of breath. Normally, Kun would have laughed at the way the other looked: he was wearing leather head-to-toe again, but was bare feet, hair completely drenched, sticking to his skull. He must have heard Kun way before the other could actually jump on him, because it seemed like he lost his balance and landed on his butt, avoiding the collison.

Dirty footprints around him gave his plan away: he rolled up all the carpets and tried to push every single piece of furniture in front of the windows, leaving open access to the corners. 

“What’s the matter with you? The door was wide open, I thought someone broke in. Are you out of your mind?” Kun asked with dull anger. Relief drained every ounce of power out of his body and Kun fell on his knees next to his flatmate. He leaned on his thighs, threw his head back and closed his eyes, counting to twenty, waiting for his heart rate to fall back on normal. 

Yukhei still refused to talk, so Kun peaked at him, studying his expression. He looked worn out: from this close Kun realized his feverish gaze, pale face and rosy cheeks, covered with dirty fingerprints. Kun inched closer to him and placed his palm on the other's clammy forehead.

“You should be in bed, you’re sick. Yukhei, what’s going on?”

Instead of answering, Yukhei stumbled upon his feet, grabbed him by the wrist and dragged Kun with him to the corner of the room that was furthest from the entrance. Kun didn’t resist.

The walls were covered with frames, each of them with a photo from Kun’s childhood. It was his mother’s idea, so “that way he won’t be so lonely all the time”. Kun didn’t understand how old photos of him, his cousins and them at various locations, making a mess of each other’s clothes would make him feel less alone, but he knew better than to argue with the woman.

As they got closer and closer, Kun picked up the strange energy that made his skin crawl. Something has changed. Something was different.

The suffocating humidity. The toxic air. The greenery.

And Kun finally figured out what it was. _That’s impossible._

The living room was the only room of the apartment with higher ceilings. To gain enough light, the previous owners decided on installing wall lights and one day Renjun, Kun’s cousin who worked in an antique shop, showed up at Kun’s doorstep with an enormous crystal chandelier that awfully reminded him of his beloved cousin.

Kun knew he should have been offended, but secretly he loved it. It was huge, flamboyant and overwhelming in every aspect and yet, when they put it up, it looked like it’s been hanging there since the beginning.

All of these were gone. A great amount of photo frames, the wass lights, the huge chandelier. Everything. The canopy of green, seemingly growing out from the ceiling, covering it from wall to wall, was strangling every source of light in the room, leaving the four corners in complete darkness.

Kun couldn’t see it from the front door because of the natural sunlight that poured inside through the twin windows, but once they were standing under spots that were once bright even without lights on, it was comically obvious. Kun felt sickness coiling at the pit of his stomach.

Apparently, there was more.

Because when he leaned on the cold wall, still shaken to the marrow, he heard the noise. It started as light scratches and Kun thought his brain was messing with him. Then he heard the music. Eyes wide, he lifted his head to look at the younger, expecting him to say something. Anything. But Yukhei shook his head and tapped the shell of his ear with his index finger twice.

_Listen._

_*_

Qian Kun didn’t believe. Knowledge was guidance for him since he knew his mind and he didn’t need more. He knew life and death, he tried to cross their paths day after day, from dawn till dusk. 

He didn’t believe because he didn’t have a reason to do so.

But the first time in his life, Qian Kun _listened_.

**Author's Note:**

> My dear reader! 
> 
> You made it to the end of the first part. I do hope you enjoyed it and your feedback is highly appreciated! See you next time! 
> 
> Next chapter: Awake
> 
> My gratitude goes to [Iz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quartise) who was kind enough to beta this work (and pull up with my non-sense). I owe you one ♡ Also special thanks to Carly, Shauna and Ali who helped me with small bits ♡
> 
> [my cc](https://curiouscat.me/odeion)  
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/parselmunde)  
> [third act love now playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5uQnOocntmJvKCBsSKQQTO)  
> 


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